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#like this is an INTERVIEW. do you know how many job interviews I have had in my life????
foldingfittedsheets · 21 hours
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I’ve been fired exactly once in my life. In my early twenties I was working at a pizza place. The pizzas were artisanal, thin crust and personal. They’re a huge chain now but when I first started the company was in its infancy. It was the wild west of management, and the core investors would frequently stop by to check on things. One of these people was this round little man with rage issues. A knock off Danny Devito with no charisma at all.
His favorite thing to do was to come in on a Friday or Saturday night. We'd be at our stations: taking orders, making pizza, manning the oven, finishing orders off, running the cash register. He'd shove his way onto the line and start rearranging people. "You, get off orders and work the cash register, you come over and make the pizzas!" With a line of customers snaking out the door he'd throw off all our grooves and rattle us.
Then, inevitably, a mistake would happen.
When it did he'd call the person over and say, "Hey c'mere. You're fired." Just like that. No inflection, just a flat "You're fired." It was absolutely a power kink, and because of his involvement the average turn over was three months. You were a veteran at five months.
One night there was only three of us manning the front. I took an order than went to the cash register to ring them out before I made the pizza. This horrible man watched that then called me into the back. I didn't know if I was about to be fired. But I wasn't. In fact, he had one other move besides firing people. He yelled.
In the back he absolutely lost his mind screaming at me for being on the cash register. I'm talking veins popping, spit flying, red with rage, this man just started bellowing nonsensically about where I should be and how I was just such a failure. It was truly like his brain had shut off, nothing he was saying even made sense. I stood there in the face of this tirade for a minute and then set a record for being the first person to ever cut him short by bursting into tears.
He instantly stopped yelling and it was like Jekyll and Hyde. He was remorseful and consoling, deeply embarrassed by my display of emotion. All my male coworkers just took the abuse but faced with my weeping he about faced and instantly backed off. I went outside to cry and when I came back in he pretended it had never happened.
That was the state of things. The investors knew they desperately needed to keep this man out of the stores, but they couldn't just give him the boot. They needed to move him aside and fill his position with someone. The store manager was this lovely woman who had hired me on the spot at my interview. The entire staff adored her. She was the best fit to get this roided out investor out of the stores for good.
Her replacement was this man called Anthony. He was instantly loathed by the entire staff. Condescending, critical, and lazy he started off his reign by letting go a core lead who "back talked." He spent a whole morning berating the opening crew because the closing crew (who had sold 100 more pizzas than we were even supposed to have on hand) had forgotten to windex the doors. He left the entire crew to close without him while he flirted with a girl who wasn't his pregnant girlfriend. He hired his roommate to replace the lead he fired and even that guy hated his guts.
Our antipathy toward him made him paranoid and resentful and one by one he started finding excuses to fire the whole staff, certain that if he could clean house he'd be able to do the job. My time came, and he sat me down with his boss, my former manager. She cried as he announced I wasn't personable enough and used too many pepperonis.
I looked at her, the woman who had trained me on how many pepperoni to use, but she said nothing. What could she say? He was the boss now and had determined I was going to be let go regardless. Too many in this case was seven. Seven pepperonis on a personal pizza. The correct number was five according to him, which is one pepperoni per slice, and one in the middle.
I sat there for a moment, taking it in. I smiled at my old manager, obviously miserable. I looked back at him and said, "You're a terrible manager, you're doing the worst imaginable job." I outlined some of the things he'd done so she could hear them, then I stood up and left. I made it to the back room before I started crying.
I found out later through a bus boy that he replaced the whole staff with college kids who had such limited availability that the store couldn't run, then quit three months later leaving the whole place in shambles. Most of the old staff returned, but I'd moved onto the sex shop already and was enjoying a job with significantly less risk of being fired on a whim.
However I do have to disclose on job applications if I've ever been fired. I always says yes and list the reason as, "Excessive use of pepperoni." It has never failed to get a laugh from my interviewer.
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leonsliga · 3 days
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Leon Goretzka for Sports Illustrated Deutschland
-> In this Sports Illustrated interview, Leon discusses not being called up to the national team, his character, and handling high pressure situations. The new Adidas Bodycare brand ambassador also discusses his hopes for the future.
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On the pitch you show strength, off the pitch you are known for your social commitment. How is it that you are so present and outspoken?
That has envolved over the course of my life, but the sense of justice has always been within me. The only thing that has changed over the course of my career is that I now have a much greater reach and more people hear my opinions.
How difficult is it to fight against adversity? Can something like this be trained or is it something you’re born with?
You have to learn to deal with it. Then you can take a clear stance—or you can just leave it be. Everyone has to decide that for themselves. But I can cope with resistance, even though some of the things that come at me these days are extreme.
How do you deal with pressure and disappointment?
Pressure is something very positive for me. I really like it. It probably helps me in my job too. When it mattered most, I was able to deliver top performances. I like a bit of pre-match jitters. That's why I'm not afraid of pressure. Disappointments are also part of it. You learn that very early on, especially in football. Losing games starts in training. But that’s why you play in a team; that's the beauty of team sports—that you can support each other. Like at FC Bayern this season, which wasn't quite as successful as we had expected and were used to. These are experiences that you can take with you and mature from.
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Did it hurt you a lot not to be called up for the national team?
It was an extreme disappointment for me because I didn’t expect it. Afterwards, I gave myself a day to come to terms with the situation. The day after that, I looked at how I could rectify it. The best way to do that is to perform at your best and accept this new role.
How hopeful are you that you will be at Euro 2024?
Very.
What is your emotional world like? Do you always allow all feelings—even the negative ones?
Everyone has to find out for themselves how they deal with feelings. My recommendation would be to talk about them, but I don't always manage that either. I like to work things out on my own and let the process mature within me. I can draw strength from that.
How do you strike a balance between self-criticism and self-confidence?
Self-criticism and self-confidence are mutually dependent. Telling yourself that you are the best has nothing to do with self-confidence. You are strongest when you also know your weaknesses.
As a leader, do you always have to live up to the sometimes very high expectations?
Yes, that's the job of a footballer. We live in a fast-paced, day-to-day business. You're only ever as good as you were in the last game. In my career in club football, I've won all the major titles that you can win with a big club like FC Bayern. Nevertheless, this season I have experienced what it means to be criticized as a leader. It reminds you that you are obliged to perform week in, week out.
How do you build yourself back up again when things aren't going your way? Do you train even more then?
I don't make my training dependent on situations that I experience week after week. I have long-term training plans. But of course, the motivation to correct things when they go poorly is always there.
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What role do negative fan opinions play? Should they be ignored?
You have to accept these things. Everyone has their own opinion. Of course, it would be nice if things were a bit more civilized, but unfortunately that's not the case. This doesn't just apply to football; it can happen to anyone on social media. It's extremely disappointing. We should think about how this can be regulated. I'm lucky that things don't bother me too much. But there are certainly many users who unfortunately don't get on so well with it.
The football business can be very tough. What do you wish for the future of football, especially for the players?
I don't know if I should give an honest answer to that.
We’re asking for one.
If I'm completely honest, we should stop trying to generate clicks at the expense of the players—both on social media and in reports.
Can football help people and society feel more positive?
The 2006 World Cup showed how football can galvanize our country. Germany's enthusiasm and interest in football are certainly back. As players, we can influence this huge potential if the German national team performs well.
You are an ambassador for Adidas Bodycare. What does "well-being" mean to you?
For me, "well-being" means that I have an awareness of my body. For the balance between strain and relief, but also for regeneration. Ultimately, it’s also about work-life balance.
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transmonstera · 7 months
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you can add your experience to the tags of something and people will really think you're telling people that's what they should always do huh anyway
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girlscience · 2 months
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boy howdy, I am working myself into a full panic over this. if I get an hour of sleep tonight it will be a miracle.
#like this is an INTERVIEW. do you know how many job interviews I have had in my life????#compared to how many jobs I have had???????#I GOT REJECTED BY WALGREENS FOR CHRISTS SAKE#I just. this man is holding my entire plan for my future right now in his hands#if he doesn't want me. If he decides I wouldn't be good in his lab I don't know what I'll do#like yeah yeah life will keep going and the world will keep turning and stuff#but I am not joking I will be devastated. and then I will have to TELL people about it#and like I still have yet to hear back from the other school and none of the professors there have talked to me#so idk if I could do what I want to there either (they do have the classes I want so I'm assuming one of the professors does what I want)#and everyone keeps saying it'll be fine and I'll do good and anyone would want me in their lab#but I DONT THINK IM IMPRESSIVE. I compare myself to other scientists and eh. I don't measure up#like sure I have good bench skills and I can learn pretty much anything you set me to#but I don't know how to come up with research proposals#I don't know how to ask good questions about papers I read#I don't have good ideas for further research#like. I did library prep at work for 3 years and we recently hired someone who has more or less taken it over#and he actually understands and talks about the actual molecular processes in a way I never learned#idk I just feel like yeah I'm good at science. but I'm good because I'm good at following directions#I am not actually inovative or creative or increasing understanding#point is I am stressed and people keep telling me not to be but I don't believe them and I am scared that I have got myself too excited#and I am about to be let down very hard very fast#and I don't really have any safety nets in place if it doesn't work out
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autumnhobbit · 1 year
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manicdragondreamgirl · 7 months
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Work is destroying my sanity and I’ve barely been here 30 minutes
#everything is on fire 24/7 and it doesn’t have to be#I tell people how to fix things in simple terms and we fuck that up#I get an email w less than 24 hours notice that someone wants to do a cameras-on interview which I distinctly Do Not Like Doing#my office set up is not camera friendly rn and I would rather die#but on top of that it’s just like people complain we don’t have enough people so I modify hiring just enough to get people in the door#but now another team is upset bc somehow it didn’t get to them and they’re worried abt training not being done correctly#so which is it do we need people as desperately as we’re complaining we do or do we need to train people?#people are arguing and being dramatic and the stress is so unnecessary#I have never wanted to just quit more#I had to go home early yesterday bc I had a horrible migraine and now that I’m back at my desk I can already feel another one#this job doesn’t have to be this hard but everyone is making it hard#and third party people aka corporate or literal outside companies keep adding more and more and more to my plate#acknowledging that we’ve got a lot going on but can we do this or can we get this done or can we do xyz#and it’s stuff you can’t say no to#I am losing my mind and I don’t even know how to explain it in a way that would matter to anyone who could make something change#so I just. want to scream#I have to be here every fucking day of the week for so many hours and I only get two shitty days to recover from this place#even tho I got a generous raise I still don’t feel like they pay me enough for what I am dealing with rn
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skellydun · 1 year
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Actual Phone Conversation I Had With A Girl Absolutely Going Through It This Morning:
me very quickly: hi this is dylan from x. how are you today? is now a good time to talk?
girl on the phone: what? oh you know! it's just work, work, work.
me: haha yeah! Just another busy Monday :)
girl on the phone i have known for exactly 11 seconds: sometimes i wish it would just stop. it's relentless. and it's every week! how many mondays can someone go through?
me trying to do my job: ha ha i know right? so I'm calling--
girl on the phone i have known for exactly 16 seconds: i'm so tired. i'm soooooo tired. shelby kept me up all night again. she will not get over keegan. they keep calling each other just to yell i swear to god.
me: only 4 days till the weekend and some sleep! :D
girl: yeah. but she's sleeping with me. at my house. didn't he tell you? who is going to get the dog? or the fucking 300 dollar blender I got them?
me: unfortunately no! so i would love to know more but the reason i'm calling is to get you scheduled for x job interview are you still interested?
girl whispering: what?
me awkwardly: it's...i'm dylan. from x. the x job you applied for. we would like to interview you for it.
girl: oh my god. no. oh my - I am so sorry. I thought you were my friend--I cannot believe--I told you work was relentless. I don't really mean that! I talked about blenders!
me: no, no I totally get it. It can be. But that's why you're interviewing for somewhere better! Tell Shelby to apply too! Do you have any availability on Thursday?
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thatbadadvice · 3 months
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Help! I'm a Perfect Genius, but This Potential Employer Asked Me a Boring Interview Question!
Ask A Manager, 13 Feb 2024:
I was rejected from a role for not answering an interview question. I had all the skills they asked for, and the recruiter and hiring manager loved me. I had a final round of interviews — a peer on the hiring team, a peer from another team that I would work closely with, the director of both teams (so my would-be grandboss, which I thought was weird), and then finally a technical test with the hiring manager I had already spoken to. (I don’t know if it matters but I’m male and everyone I interviewed with was female.) The interviews went great, except the grandboss. I asked why she was interviewing me since it was a technical position and she was clearly some kind of middle manager. She told me she had a technical background (although she had been in management 10 years so it’s not like her experience was even relevant), but that she was interviewing for things like communication, ability to prioritize, and soft skills. I still thought it was weird to interview with my boss’s boss. She asked pretty standard (and boring) questions, which I aced. But then she asked me to tell her about the biggest mistake I’ve made in my career and how I handled it. I told her I’m a professional and I don’t make mistakes, and she argued with me! She said everyone makes mistakes, but what matters is how you handle them and prevent the same mistake from happening in the future. I told her maybe she made mistakes as a developer but since I actually went to school for it, I didn’t have that problem. She seemed fine with it and we moved on with the interview. A couple days later, the recruiter emailed me to say they had decided to go with someone else. I asked for feedback on why I wasn’t chosen and she said there were other candidates who were stronger. I wrote back and asked if the grandboss had been the reason I didn’t get the job, and she just told me again that the hiring panel made the decision to hire someone else. I looked the grandboss up on LinkedIn after the rejection and she was a developer at two industry leaders and then an executive at a third. She was also connected to a number of well-known C-level people in our city and industry. I’m thinking of mailing her on LinkedIn to explain why her question was wrong and asking if she’ll consider me for future positions at her company but my wife says it’s a bad idea. What do you think about me mailing her to try to explain?
Sir,
You have been wronged in the most grievous of ways by a coven of retaliatory, self-aggrandizing women who have failed in the extreme to recognize your brilliance, your talent, and above all, your general superiority.
Of course you should mail this mediocre "grandboss" on LinkedIn to inform her of the deep offense she caused you by interviewing you in the first place, let alone doing so using a boring question — indeed, you have a moral and professional obligation to do so in order to preserve your honor and the honor of scores of men like you who have never done a single solitary thing wrong in their lives, ever.
But I beg you to consider doing more. A single, private message to one incompetent bitch may not convey to the necessary parties the depth and breadth of the situation. Many, many people have important lessons to learn from your experience, and I encourage you to share it widely. Consider making a public LinkedIn post, and ensure that it is shareable across platforms. Depending on your financial resources, a billboard with your name, professional headshot, and contact information could go a long way toward ensuring that everyone in your industry who needs to know just how you handled the way these women treated you, does know about it. I hope that in your continuing job search, you are able to connect with potential employers who have a much better grasp of all you bring to the table.
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ozzgin · 4 months
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OZZGIN!
May I request an idea/imagine?
It is about yandere! mental asylum patient and psychiatrist! reader, who is very practical and strict regarding her job, takes no BS from others. But, for some reason, she has a soft spot for yandere! mental asylum patient. The reason could either be he had a hard childhood in which he had to do what he had to do, which brutally killed his father, who used to abuse his mother and sister, but when the father tried to sell the sister into prostitution to buy more alcohol, all hell break lose. Psychiatrist! reader thinks what yandere! mental asylum the patient did was OKAY, and she wants to get him out of the asylum. They love each other deeply and would do anything, so far as to kill for one another. If you can, make it as twisted as you can. I live for some dark romance!
Please ignore my request if you are not able to do it. I completely understand. Thank you in advance! <3
Oh my, this request hits somewhat close to home as I have a friend incarcerated for similar reasons. I'm pondering the logistics behind this context you've provided, since murdering someone won't necessarily land you in a psych ward unless there are other symptoms that come with it. And so I've taken the liberty to expand the character's profile if that's alright. (Conveniently enough I still have my psychopathology lecture notes)
I want to add, however, that this story in no way romanticizes mental illness! If anything, one may consider it an opportunity to reflect on the fact that so many people struggling with disorders do not receive the proper care for it, or only do so when it's too late. Furthermore a medical professional should never, ever behave like this and whatever is written here should stay in the realm of fiction!
Yandere! Patient x Psychiatrist! Reader
Featuring a patient that's pushing the boundaries of your work ethic and might even succeed.
Content/warnings: female reader, detailed mentions of mental disorder, violence, obsessive behavior, breach of professional conduct
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You roll up your sleeve and check your watch. He should be here soon. Out of habit, you shuffle the papers for a quick case review, even though you already know all the details by heart. You carefully set aside the patient’s MMPI and WHODAS entry assessments, then your first interviews. Your eyes briefly rest upon the resulting report you’ve comprised: Schizophreniform Disorder (Provisional) with good prognostic features; Diagnostic criteria consisting of delusions, disorganized speech (frequent derailment with episodes of incoherence, echolalia) and comorbid catatonia. Responds well to antipsychotic (clozapine 25mg/12 h) with no imminent need for dosage increase. As it currently stands, he will be fit for proper incarceration in less than 6 months. Is it something you agree with? Not quite. You’ve presented your case many times and it has always been met with pitiful shrugs and dismissals.
The door opens and you fix your posture, sweeping the documents back into your drawer. “And? How are you feeling today?” You ask, flashing a professional, cordial smile as the assisting nurse leads the patient to his seat and prepares her leave. “My chest hurts.” The man answers in a low voice, glaring at the nurse. He taps his foot against the plush carpet, seemingly restless. “How bad would you rate it? Chest pain is a somewhat common side effect of your medication.” You retort, following the movements of the woman finally excusing herself and exiting the room. Once you’re alone, the man’s shoulders droop and he visibly relaxes. “It’s not that, you know it. When can I touch you again?” He pleads, despair twisting his features. You tense up at the words. “Behave yourself. It hasn’t been that long.”
It’s not something you’re particularly proud of. In fact, you might even call it one of your great shames in life. You’ve always been a textbook professional, perhaps even too strict according to your coworkers and most patients. Not even in your wildest dreams would you have dared to imagine you’d violate the code of ethics by falling in love with your patient. But something about his situation stirred your sense of justice. Surely one cannot be punished for protecting their loved ones. The only criminal in the equation, at least in your eyes, was that joke of a father and he had it coming. So you found yourself wrestling against a blooming protectiveness and favoritism towards the young man brought here last month.
What would have normally compelled you into action had therefore been silently swept under the rug. Or even worse, you secretly indulged in it. A patient showing signs of affection towards you would instantly be transferred to a different psychiatrist. Yet you couldn’t put away the letters written by this one. Erratic, crumpled notes of “I love you” written countless times, pencil dug so deep it tore into the sheet. Bizarre illustrations that looked almost threatening. His elaborate delusions before medication was introduced, where he’d detail in grand narratives how you were fated for each other and nothing would stop him from having you sooner or later. You do not know what forces possessed you into this addictive plunge, but you’ve come to enjoy his violent, frenzied confessions. So much, that during one of the unsupervised meetings you let yourself pushed into the sofa as his hands tugged at your body in rabid need. It was so out of character that you wondered if it truly happened, though the bite marks and scratches on your neck and chest proved otherwise.
“Are they going to send me to prison?” He changes the subject and stands up, walking towards your desk. “Most likely. What you have is the result of a traumatic event, not a lifelong condition. Sporadic episodes that can be kept under control with antipsychotics aren’t enough of a reason to keep you in the hospital.” You press your legs together nervously and glance at him. “Can’t you just say it’s no longer working?” He suggests, kneeling before you and placing a hand on your thigh. “You know I can’t lie on the report.” You really don’t like it when he manipulates you like this. “Ah, yes, because lying is worse than fucking your patient.” He scoffs, annoyed. “Don’t threaten me like that”, you say as you turn towards him, but you’re stopped by the rough grip of his hand over your cheeks. “I’m not threatening you, I’m threatening everyone else. Listen, (Y/N), I’m not fucking around. I don’t mind pretending to be crazy if I have to. Will the meds still be working if I steal a shaving razor and cut the nurse open?” You try to open your mouth, but his fingers are pressed into your skin, locking your jaw into place. “I’m not going to prison. I’m not. Then I’ll never see you again and that can’t happen. You know that.”
Eventually he releases his hold, allowing you to speak. "I understand. Then there's no choice but to arrange your escape." You sigh, defeated, and he raises his eyebrows. "Won't that get you in trouble?" You chuckle at his statement. "Either way I'll be in trouble. You said it yourself. Might as well quit before I have to stand in front of the ethics board and have my license revoked." You'd prefer to keep the last ounce of pride if possible.
He sits on the floor and you notice his trembling hands. "Nervous?" You ask. "No. Just really happy. I'm not a bad person and you were the only one here to see it. But God, (Y/N), I'd kill anyone if it was for your sake. I can't wait to hold you whenever I want." He gazes at you as a smile widens on his face.
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littledovesnow · 4 months
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a growing family pt. 2
a/n: yay for part 2!! read part one here
word count: 1.8k
warnings: pregnancy, pretty canon-level violence and stuff i think. also i'm sorry in advance about this part <3
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"Now, Mr. Snow, you and your wife leave tomorrow for your District Tour." Lucky Flickerman spoke into microphone, eyes bouncing between Coriolanus and you.
Coriolanus nodded, not quite sure where this was going. He was briefed on the. main topics that Flickerman would go over during the interview and this was not one of them.
"Is there any worry about the twins? Congratulations, by the way! Twins! How lucky are you!"
You smiled, patting your husband's hand to signal that you would answer this question.
"Thank you, Lucky," you started, sweet smile on your face. "I've been in conversation with my medical team, and we've all come to an agreement that it's quite safe for me to travel with Coriolanus and the rest of his cabinet. I'm not due for another couple of months, anyway."
Coriolanus smiled at you, voicing his answer, as well. "We've also spoken to the OB/GYN, and she will be joining us on the latter half of the tour. We hope she can just enjoy the travel, not needed for any medical emergencies."
Lucky nodded, satisfied with that answer. "Now, Coriolanus, you've mentioned in some changes to the Hunger Games in the coming years. We've had questions coming in from watchers, but first, a few words from our generous sponsors."
The red light went off on top of the cameras, and you let the superficial smile fall from your face, hand going to rub your lower back.
"Your back still hurt, love?" Coriolanus asked, noticing your discomfort.
"I think our kids are going to be soccer professional, Coryo." You grumbled, one of the twins had been kicking mercilessly for a few weeks.
Coriolanus chuckled, removing your hand, using his palm to massage the area. "Well, you can tell them off when they're out here."
Lucky, who had been observing the couple from his spot on the seat across from them, wore a smile. "One thing that my wife asked I do when she was pregnant with Caesar was massage her back every night. Sometimes she still makes me do it."
You smiled at the TV host, humming. "Not a bad idea. Coryo, I think I know what your next job will be."
Coriolanus snorted, hand still massaging your back. "Anything for the mother of my children."
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The train car you were currently seated in was more luxurious than you remembered, seats having been upholstered from your last trip out of the Capitol.
You looked away from the mountain ranges decorating the horizon when the door opened, Coriolanus entering.
"How are you feeling?" He asked, coming to sit in the seat across from you, moving your feet from the seat to his lap.
Humming, you leant your head back as he began massaging them. "Better now. What was that meeting for? I thought you had travel days free."
Coriolanus pondered over how to answer, not wanting to tell you he had just had some rebels executed for a potential threat in Six. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with."
Opening an eye to look at him, you could read the man like an open book. "How many were there?"
There was a beat of silence before Coriolanus spoke up.
"Four. Would have been three but some things you can't avoid."
You didn't reply, simply wiggling your foot when Coriolanus' hands stopped massaging the arch of your foot.
He laughed, resuming the action as you two watched the mountain ranges and nature outside of the train.
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You yawned, staring at the ceiling of the Crane's hotel in District Three. It was nearing one in the morning, and you had gotten a sum total of about two and a half hours since you and Coriolanus crawled into the bed.
Moving as quietly as you could, you rose from the bed, waiting a beat to see if Coriolanus woke up.
His rather loud snore told you he was still off dreaming, something you were thankful for. He had a lot on his shoulders, and you didn't want to add onto the never-ending pile of worry and stress with the upcoming election.
Moving to the bathroom, you softly closed the door and looked at yourself in the mirror. The twins had been keeping you up at night more frequently, and your OB/GYN said it was just because while they were starting to get a regular sleep pattern, they couldn't tell day from night and often slept during the day.
When you opened the door, you frowned when you saw your husband sitting up in the bed, cheek still indented from the creases in the pillow.
"What are you doing up?" He asked, voice hoarse from sleep.
Rubbing one hand across your ever-growing bump, sleepily blinking at the man across from you. "Your children are wide awake, it seems."
Coriolanus smiled, patting the spot you had previously occupied. "Come here, I'll rub your back."
With the promise of that, you made your way back into the bed, stuffing one of the many pillows on the bed between your knees.
"Oh, well hello, little one."
You looked at where Coriolanus was staring at your bump, tiny foot barely visible. "Oh that's the most disturbing thing I think I've ever seen."
"Don't say that!" Coriolanus chided, though there was a smile on his face. "That's your child in there!"
"Coryo, you shouldn't be able to see their hands from outside!" You laughed, even though your OB/GYN said it was very possible to start to see little hands and feet as there became less and less free space.
Coriolanus pressed a kiss to your hairline, rubbing the place where the foot was. "Hi, babies. Please let your mother sleep, she needs to help me win over the hearts of Panem."
Rolling your eyes, you moved Coriolanus' hand to your back, letting your head fall back against a pillow. "Rub my back."
"Yes dear."
-----
Hand clasped tightly in Coriolanus' you two followed the Peacekeepers to the barracks to meet with the district's mayor and Commanding Peacekeeper.
You two had won the hearts over a majority of each District you've visited, but as you two traveled farther from the Capitol, you knew it would be more difficult and the chance of threats and rebels increased.
The number of Peacekeepers surrounding you two had grown within each stop, Coriolanus wanting to make sure nothing happened to his wife and mother of his children, his heirs.
"Mr. and Mrs. Snow, we're very pleased you two could be here!" The mayor smiled, shaking both of your hands.
You returned the sentiment, eyes locked on the plush-looking chair behind him. "Is it alright if I sit? My feet are killing me."
The mayor, who seemed to have just realized how large your bump had grown, nodded quickly, gesturing to the chair you had pointed to.
Coriolanus stood behind you, one hand smoothing your hair as he and the mayor discussed the afternoon's speeches and tour around the main hub.
"Will you be joining us, Mrs. Snow?"
"No, she's been feeling a little more tired." Coriolanus replied before you could speak up.
The mayor frowned, seemingly disappointed.
"Is there a problem?" You asked, feeling Coriolanus' hand still at the nape of your neck.
"Well, the children here have been so excited to meet you, but I'm sure seeing Mr. Snow will be just as fine."
Coriolanus knew you had a soft spot for children, how they still saw the best in everything. "Love, you barely slept last night. It's safer if you rest."
"Coryo, it won't be too long. And besides, we have a couple travel days I can catch up on sleep."
You ignored your husband's deep frown, instead smiling at the mayor. "We can't possibly let the kids down, can we?"
The mayor clapped happily, rising from his seat. "Well then, shall we go?"
You stood from the chair with some help from your husband, who placed a hand on your lower back, unable to keep his hands off of you.
"You're a spoiled brat, you know that?" He whispered, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
"And you love me for it." You replied, sharp smile on your face.
-----
Coriolanus watched as you followed a few of the schoolchildren around the classroom, letting them explain the backgrounds of their various posters and projects.
"She's going to be a wonderful mother." The mayor spoke, standing next to Coriolanus.
He nodded, watching you kneel down to listen more to a rather small girl, your eyes focused on her entirely. "She already is."
"Mr. Snow, Mayor, we're going to be late if we don't head for the town square now."
Nodding, Coriolanus walked over to your side, kneeling down next to you and the young girl. "Hi, love. Mind introducing me to your friend?"
You looked at your husband, and then at the young girl. "Coryo, meet Clementine. Her friends call her Clemmie."
Coriolanus saw the twinkle in your eye as you looked back at the girl. "It's lovely to meet you, Clemmie. You know, Mrs. Snow and I have a friend named Clemmie."
"Really?" Little Clementine asked, eyes wide.
Nodding, Coriolanus helped you stand up straight. "We do, but don't worry, we can have two Clemmies. Now, I do have to steal Mrs. Snow now, we have to go to town square."
Clementine pouted, but nodded. "It was nice to meet you!"
"You, too, Clemmie! Good luck with your new brother!" You smiled, squeezing Coriolanus' hand as the two of you followed some Peacekeepers out of the school and down to the town square and stage.
You've only seen the stage on television for the Reaping Ceremonies, it looked larger on screen. "She was so sweet, Coryo. She was telling me how her mother looked like me and now she has a little brother."
Coriolanus smiled, thumb rubbing your hand. "That's very sweet. I'm sure you made her ent-"
A loud explosion cut Coriolanus off, Peacekeepers immediately springing into action, separating the two of you to get you both to safety.
There were a few more explosions around the stage, sending debris and dirt in the air.
"Coryo!" You called, trying to wriggle out of the Peacekeepers' grip and find your husband.
You coughed as you inhaled smoke, eyes wide to spot Coriolanus. "Let me go! I need to find Coriolanus!"
"Ma'am, you need to come with us! We have orders to bring both you and Mr. Snow to a safe room, please cooperate."
You had a disdain for the Peacekeeper who spoke to you rather harshly, feeling his hands tighten their grip on your bicep.
Stumbling a few times, you had finally made it to the small bunker, heart hammering when you saw Coriolanus and the mayor already in there, dirt on both of their faces and clothing.
"Love," Coriolanus sighed in relief, though it was short-lived as he ran his eyes over your body. "Love, you're bleeding."
-----
a/n: oh how i love a good cliff-hanger
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dirichletttt · 9 months
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I really liked Oppenheimer. I know it's not for everyone, but as someone who is interested in STEM and STEM history, especially pertaining to physics, this movie pushed all of the right buttons for me. I think it did a good job at showing just how flawed and utterly human many of these mythologized historical figures were in real life, and how the Manhattan Project was riddled with internal and external political factors from even before its conception.
I also appreciated just how utterly fucking powerful and eldritch they made the bomb. Obviously a significant portion of the movie is dedicated to the creation of the bomb, but it's often sort of a looming figure in the background. It's the increasing number of marbles in the jar, it's the steady theoretical and experimental progress, it's the dropping of dates for those who know the historical timeline of events. And when it's finally revealed, it's Fucking Terrifying. You pretty much never see the full mushroom cloud in frame; it's always a small portion of it or the flash of light shining on our characters. And the sinking feeling you get when the screen is lit up and you just know, you're anticipating that deafening blast from the shockwave because sound travels slower than light. And you feel guilty in a way because you have the privilege of knowing what's coming, while in your mind you know the victims of such devices had no idea before they were either vaporized on the spot or severly traumatized. It conveys so well the perspective of the scientists on the project, that you've challenged god and, although maybe not surpassing it, made something equally as terrifying.
Character-wise, I don't really have much to say. I do like that the latter third of the movie slowed down a lot to focus on the accusations made against Oppenheimer, which helped to flesh out a range of characters who were sort of just set pieces to Oppenheimer himself before the interviews. And despite my previous statement about breaking down the idolization of historical figures, I was indeed excited like a Marvel fan whenever one of my physics blorbos showed up on screen. "Holy shit it's Niels Bohr!!" "omg Lorentz my scrunkly wunkly!!!" "ITS BONGO GUY OMG BONGO GUY I KNOW HIM" like yeah a lot of them turned out to be Not Great People in their personal lives but I can acknowledge that while also geeking out at their recognition in mainstream media.
All in all, very good movie. I intend to watch it with my mom when I get the chance.
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UK Politics Rundown: BoJo's Bizarre Exit Edition
Ok, so, people keep asking me to explain what's going on in the UK right now, mostly because they're seeing Brits just revelling in the levels of fuckery going on. So, a brief bullet pointed run down:
Most of you have probably heard of the Sentient Mop that is Boris Johnson, former Prime Minister of the UK
Most of you probably know about his penchant for lying to the public and basically not giving a fuck about it
This culminated in a huge police investigation into literal parties this man held while we were in Covid lockdown. Including one the night before Prince Phillip's funeral at which the Queen sat alone. And if you know how the press reacted to that one, you know he was in the shit for it.
Anyway, he lied about many of those parties, got fined for attending those parties, and is still technically under Parliamentary investigation for lying to Parliament while stood on the floor of the House of Commons (the room where they yell about laws every day).
There was also a Vote of No Confidence, which is a way in which the Conservatives can remove the leader of their party if they think he's terrible. Boris won this, but by a smaller margin than he would have wanted. No new vote can be held for another year based on the current rules (more on this later)
Fast forward 2 weeks from the end of that to last week and we get some news about an MP (Chris Pincher) who initially seemed to have got drunk and done *something* (as yet it was undefined) and he was suspended from the Conservative party pending investigation.
The following day (Thursday) it emerged that it was because he had allegedly sexually assaulted two men while drunk at a Conservatives club, and that there had been reports of this behaviour before. So he had the whip (basically the ability to vote as a Conservative MP) removed.
On Friday tons of Conservatives did the rounds on the news with 'oh we didn't know he was Bad. Boris definitely didn't know or he wouldn't have appointed him to his position'
On Saturday Boris does an interview where the reporter challenges him and says 'you were told about this in December 2019), Boris then admits to knowing about it but says he 'forgot'.
People are piiiiiiiiiiiised
Fast forward to Tuesday this week (5th July 2022). Late Tuesday, two Cabinet Ministers (think of like the Secretary of State/Housing etc in the US, it's roughly equivalent) Rishi Sunak (Chancellor of the Exchequer) and Sajid Javid (Health Secretary) resign, citing Boris lying to them about many things but this being the final straw.
I mean sure lads, everything else was terrible but this is what did it huh?
Don't worry about it. Their resignations were designed to do exactly what's happened so it was a calculated move.
This kicks off what you've seen in the last 48hrs, with Cabinet Ministers, Senior Ministers, and Junior Ministers all resigning. At one point it was 6 resignations an hour.
The previous record for most ministers in a 24hr period resigning was 11 in 1932. Boris did 53.
Current total of resignations is 59. He fired Michael Gove (who's been hired and fired by the last 3 Prime Ministers, so congrats on that achievement Michael!) So it's basically at 60.
There are not enough ministers in jobs currently to run most departments
Press didn't know what to do with themselves and everyone in the UK was on Facebook marking themselves as 'attending' Boris' leaving party, and generally just having a great time with governmental collapse
Yesterday Boris refused to go. You may have seen footage of the entire House of Commons telling him goodbye very sarcastically. This is the normal levels of shithousery in the House of Commons, but it's also very funny.
Boris was still refusing to go late last night, saying he had a mandate from the people. You got this in 2019, love, it doesn't count anymore.
Literally everyone was writing letters and going on TV telling him to go, including people who'd got new jobs from him 24hrs before
Anyway, between 6:45am and 8am another 10 people resigned, which is how we got to 60 after yesterday's bonanza, and by 9:15am Boris said he would resign as PM and Tory Party leader
He is literally blaming everyone but himself at this point but no one is listening to him anymore
This has triggered a Leadership election, where untold horrors await us because that person will be the new Prime Minister....until they're forced to call a General Election
However, Boris still remains as Prime Minister for now. He said he'd stay until there was a new leader elected. So he's down, but he's not yet out.
But the fun doesn't stop yet! The 1922 Committee (the backbenches of the Tory Party in Parliament) has elections for positions on Monday and they might (and probably will) elect people who want to change the rules so that another Vote of No Confidence can be held. If that happens, the rules can be changed in less than 24hrs and they'll hold another vote to oust him before a new leader is elected. Personally, I hope Theresa May wears another ballgown to this vote after she did to the last one. Boris was the one who ousted her to become leader, so she's revelling in shithousery and it's fun to see Tory on Tory violence.
Highlights of all of this include: Reporters interrupting each other to say someone else just resigned, the people heckling Boris from the gates of Downing Street, the one guy who resigned while in a Parliamentary Committee meeting with Boris that was to discuss all the lies Boris has been telling (and informed him during this meeting. He's a Tory but the balls on that man jeez), Hugh Grant (yes, film star Hugh Grant) paying a bloke to go play the Benny Hill theme tune on Live speakers around Parliament, reporters interviewing Larry the Cat who is literally a cat and responsible for keeping the mice at bay, and every single person in the UK making memes/jokes/videos and just generally having a fantastic time as the government implodes.
Will a new leader change anything? No
Are the British public scared or worried about this? No
Is it just really really fucking funny? Yes. So funny
And that, guys, gals, and non binary pals, is the current account of what's going down in the UK as of 7th July (late afternoon).
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gucciwins · 5 months
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Y/N just wants Harry to like her.
Word count: 5964
A/N: Friends!!!!! I am sorry to have disappeared but I am back. Yes, I am aware this is a Halloween/October story but you're getting it now mid November (that has been going by fast). I won't work on any holiday stories because I have no idea what to write. So if you have an idea and want me to write it feel free to shoot me an ask.
Now happy reading! I love you
+
Many people go to work ready to return home, but not Y/N. No, she walks in every day with a smile and a pep in her step. She greets her coworkers by name and occasionally brings baked goods she knows everyone will enjoy. Y/N loves her job, and she’s happy to go every day.
Y/N went from working in a job she hated because it was filled with men constantly belittling her and gaslighting her that she was doing her job wrong when she was actually excelling. It all got to be too much, and Y/N decided to quit. Thank goodness she did because soon into her job search, she received an email from Carla Crain asking her if she’d be interested in joining her company. Y/N went to the interview, and after basically being pitched her dream job, she accepted and entered as head engineer. 
She’d be lying if she wasn’t nervous starting, but the people Carla had hired all shared the same values on work and life. Y/N knew she’d be in safe hands. The company is small but slowly growing. It allows for every employee to get to know each other and everyone to remember that together, they can be successful. Y/N had been at the job for two years and, with time, brought new coworkers. 
There is Estrella, who loves to talk to you about astrology, ironically enough. She states that the invisible string theory is real and that if everyone tracked it, they would notice just how small the world is. 
Carmy has a tough exterior, but once anyone gets him talking, he never stops. He loves chatting about his family and his pet Pitbull named Daisy. 
Maeve is petite, and every other month comes in with a new color in their hair. Y/N enjoys it when everyone in the office places bets on what it will be. 
Tatum is from Scotland and loves to remind everyone when they all go out for drinks on the weekend. 
Chessy is the only one who works remotely, but when she comes in, she is always laughing in the office. They also all get a basket of fresh fruit and vegetables from her garden. 
Overall, Y/N knows she had the best coworkers and wouldn’t change her job for the world, but as their company grows, so does the need in their team. The newest hire is Harry Styles, who has come in as a computer technician to help develop their website and also help with any internal security. Honestly, all she knew was that it was a complex job. 
Harry was on the quiet side. She tried to start conversations with him, but he always seemed to brush her off. At first, Y/N wondered if she should take it personally but soon learned he did that to everyone. Even though he didn’t open up to them, they still invited Harry to join them. 
The thing was, he rejected all their dinners. Y/N loved going to a Korean BBQ Maeve introduced them to, and Harry claimed not to eat meat (not that she didn’t think it wasn’t true. Chessy was vegetarian, after all.) They would go to a bar and share a few drinks when they knew they would all be having a long weekend off. Harry always claimed he had an early morning. It didn't matter if they offered to meet earlier. Y/N’s favorite nights were trivia nights that happened at a local brewery. Y/N was a beat, especially in history. Harry declined, and this one hurt her the most.
 Everyone would ask Harry to join. 
Karaoke. Can’t hold a tune.
Bowling. Too loud. 
It seems there was an excuse for everything.
Everyone began to stop inviting him out, and while Y/N didn’t enjoy being told no, she would send notes to the office with the time and place of what they would be doing. She’d always keep an eye on the door, but Y/N went home disappointed each time.
The thing was, Y/N was determined to make a friend out of Harry. She soon learned large public settings must be overwhelming for him and decided to find a new way to approach him. Everyone took lunch at the same time in the office except for Harry. Sometimes, they all ate at the sub shop across the street. Most times, Y/N brought food from home, and she cooked. While she liked eating out, Y/N preferred a home-cooked meal. She caught Harry taking his lunch half an hour later than her and used that to her advantage. 
They had a conference that always remained empty as everyone preferred the main lounge. Harry went in there every day for his lunch hour. One day, Y/N walks in, smiles at him, and sits as far away as she can. She made sure to only be there for ten minutes. The next day, she stayed for twenty and wished him a nice lunch when she left.  
Slowly, Harry begins to spare her glances, but Y/N keeps to herself until the day she sits across from him. 
“Hi, Harry. Is it okay for me to sit here?” 
No answer. 
“I’m going to take that as a yes.” 
He fidgets with his fork. 
“I saw a lime bike out front. Did you ride that today?” 
Harry looks at her briefly before staring back at his plate. 
“I’ve always wanted to try one, but I’m honestly scared of being hit by a car. Chessy lets me ride hers when I go down to visit her. She’s got beautiful trails. You’d probably enjoy it.” 
Y/N thinks that’s enough for today and excuses herself. She doesn’t realize Harry noticed she didn’t take a bite of her lunch. When she goes back to her desk after using the restroom, she finds three chocolate chip cookies sitting on her desk. Y/N rushes to try one, doesn’t even think of who delivered them or that a green-eyed man was standing right outside waiting to hear her reaction. 
With time, it seems Harry is coming to appreciate Y/N’s presence. He has never expressed it, but she knows because he nods when he agrees to something she says or tightens the hold on his fork when Y/N shares something upsetting. Y/N had not gotten more than two words out of him. At this point, Y/N felt like Harry knew everything about her; all she knew was that he had the most beautiful eyes, and his hair always looked soft. 
One day, after many lunches together, she finds Harry reading a book. Y/N knows he might want quiet, but her curiosity gets the best of her. 
“Any good?”
Harry looks up and grimaces. “Think it’s really boring.” 
Y/N laughs because she wasn’t expecting that response. “Then put it down.” 
He shakes his head. “Don’t like not knowing the ending.”
Y/N shrugs, “if you don’t like a book, I wouldn’t put myself through the torture of it all. Skip to the end if you're curious.” She understands she spoke too much and excuses herself. 
The next day, Harry is sitting in his usual spot, but this time, a new book is in his hand. Y/N bites back a smile. 
“What’s this one about?”
“My sister recommended it,” he defends. 
Y/N isn’t halted by his harsh tone. “What’s it about?” 
“Well, it’s Pride and Prejudice.” He shows her the book cover. 
“Like the movie?” Y/N asks.
Harry laughs, and Y/N feels successful. His laughter rings in her ears. It’s a lovely sound, and she wishes to hear it more. “Yeah…I like the movie.” 
“Me too,” she gushes. “Do you think I’d like the book?”
He frowns, “if you like Jane Austen.” 
“Might have to pick it up next time I’m in the shops.”
+
Their interactions are solely during their lunches but sometimes spills out during work. Y/N seemed to have an issue with her computer and radioed IT. She needed to submit her document, but her desktop appeared to freeze whenever she opened a new file. Harry knocked on her door, and she welcomed him in. Y/N explained the issue, and Harry was quick to get to work. It was only a few minutes when she noticed that her document was open and her computer wasn’t having a meltdown.
“Thank you so much, Harry!” Y/N cheers, knowing he saved her. 
Harry shrugs because it’s his job. “You have a nice photo.” He’s pointing to her picture frame on her desk. It’s a picture of her and a dog in Iceland at the end of her hike. It was taken back when she was nineteen years old. 
“Thank you. I took that on my first solo trip.” She bites her lip, hoping Harry takes the bait. 
“Where to?” He asks curiously. 
She silently cheers, “Iceland.”
“Is that your dog?” 
“I actually found him mid-hike and took him back with me. I hoped to see his owner on the trail, but there was no luck. He didn’t even seem worried. Once I returned to the car park, his owner was there. After that hike, I decided I liked the company of a dog and returned home to adopt Tutter, a Jack Russel Terrier who loves to play fetch.”
“Why isn’t Tutter on your desk?” 
Y/N feels her face flush, “now, don’t be mean. I love my son, but that trip taught me I can do anything I set my mind to, whether alone or with company.”
Harry gives her the slightest smile. “I-I learned Italian because I always dreamed of having an Italian home.”
Y/N’s eyes brighten. Harry is opening up to her, and instead of pushing, she offers more of herself. “I’ve dreamed of visiting. The Amalfi coast is my dream to swim in. Silly, I know,” she brushes off, trying to downplay her excitement. 
Harry doesn’t let her. “You’ll make it.”
He finally excuses himself. Y/N is happy for the rest of the day because she realizes Harry is allowing her in.
+
September means the preparations for Halloween have begun. It starts with little things, from coasters and mugs to the occasional treat. One day, a tiny spider sits on his desk for a second. Harry believed it was real until it began to glow purple. Harry kept it on his desk next to his sticky notes. He doesn't do anything about it; there’s no need. By the second week, the office is entirely decorated. Harry admits a few decorations have scared him, especially the skeleton in the corner of the restroom.
It’s a quiet day when he’s walking by the break room on his way to the secluded office to have lunch when he hears people talking. Harry pauses because he hears Y/N’s voice mixed in with everyone else. 
“But it seems like he doesn’t like us,” Harry hears quietly. 
“It’s hard,” Y/N defends. “You’re all extroverts. It can be overwhelming.” 
Harry knows she’s trying for them to understand.
“But Carla is all about unity in the office. This is a concern.”
“It’s not, Carmy.” Y/N shuts him down, clearly upset she had to defend him.
Harry decides he’s heard enough and decides to eat lunch alone in his car. He’s thankful it was a sandwich and nothing he had to heat up. For the entire lunch and the rest of the day, all he thinks about are the words of his coworkers. 
Y/N looked for Harry, excited to talk about a book she started, but Harry was nowhere to be found. She wouldn’t have been concerned, but it’s clear no one saw him since before lunch. She wishes Harry could confide in her even if a fraction of what she shares with him/ 
The next day, everyone walks into the office at their usual time, everyone making their rounds together to the break room to prepare their coffees and store their lunch in the fridge. When Y/N walks in, she sees her coworkers huddled around the table and peeks around them to see what has captured their attention. There on the table is a box of Halloween cookies from a bakery uptown with a note attached. 
Enjoy - HS
Y/N lets a smile take over her face. She knew Harry cared about them but understood why he finally did something. She tells her coworkers they owe him an apology, and they all agree. Y/N makes sure to head to Harry’s office and thank him for the cookies. Harry tells her it’s nothing. She bounces away to her office, where Estrella, Carmy, Maeve, and Tatum are standing outside her door. 
“Can you come with us? Feel like he likes you.” Tatum tells her. 
Y/N sighs and tells them to follow her. Once again, she knocks on his door, and they all file in when he welcomes her in. Harry looks at them confused. 
“Uh, is there an issue?” Harry asks, concerned. 
Carmy starts, “we want to apologize if you overheard us yesterday.” 
“Right,” Harry sighs, knowing it might be a good time to share with them. If he trusted Y/N and she trusted them, he knew he could also start to. 
“It was wrong of us,” Maeve continues. “Y/N raves about how smart and nice you are, but we don’t get to see that. We’re sorry.” 
Everyone else repeats the sentiment while Harry looks at Y/N, who offers him an encouraging smile. She must know his anxiety is through the roof. 
Harry takes a deep breath, “right, uh.” He looks down at his shoes, untied lace on his black Adidas. “I struggle with social anxiety and new environments. It’s better than when I was a kid, but it’s easy to get overwhelmed even more when being the new guy.” 
“No worries. We get that,” Tatum expresses. “Estrella gets bad migraines.” 
“Don’t air other people’s personal stuff,” Y/N reminds them. 
“We’re sorry,” they offered one last time. “Thanks for the cookies.” 
After that, they hurried out while Y/N stayed behind. 
“I wanted to apologize,” he begins.
“You don’t–” Harry cuts her off. “You’ve made me feel comfortable.”
Y/N sighs, letting her shoulders drop. “Not enough, it seems.” 
“It can just be too much sometimes.”
“I-I get panic attacks.” Y/N shares, surprising herself. “When I overwhelm myself, it can happen. It’s uncommon and has not happened at work, but I understand.” 
“Thank you for sharing,” Harry tells her honestly. “Lunch?” 
“See you in a bit then.”
+
Through September, Y/N and Harry have lunch together every day. They read together, Harry more into classic literature, and Y/N loving to devour a juicy romance that has her pausing every few minutes, trying her best not to scream because the love interest brushed hands. Some days, Y/N will do a sudoku game while Harry does the daily crossword. Y/N likes to solve the Wordle of the day and most times asks Harry for help if she fears she might not get it. Some days, Y/N brings in her laptop during lunch because she is behind and needs to catch up. Harry reminds her to relax. He knows it’s easier said than done, so he tells her about the book he’s reading or asks about her dog and the snacks he eats. 
Before she knows if they’ve made it to October. One of the best months of the year. Y/N loves planning events, and this is one she wishes Harry would say yes to. She knocks on his office door, and Harry freezes, staring at his computer screen. He glances at the calendar; it's the first Monday of the month, and Harry knows they’ve planned a fun event. 
Harry is practicing his excuse when Y/N walks in with a bright smile, wearing a “Great Pumpkin” shirt with Snoopy and Charlie Brown. She has told him it’s her favorite movie to watch during the month and “The Conjuring” Harry wasn’t sure how the sweetest girl he knew could handle a horror film like that. He had told her she was fearless.
“Hi, Y/N, pretty shirt.” 
Y/N looks down at it as if she had forgotten what she was wearing. She beams at his compliment. “Thank you, Harry!” 
Harry asks how her day is going and shares how there was traffic on the way down and how she didn’t have time to stop by her favorite coffee shop because there was a line out the door. “Pumpkin spice isn’t even that good, H. I mean, it’s okay, but I wanted my coffee.”
He laughs at her pouting and promises to make her one during lunch. She perks up at his mention of their shared time together. 
“Speaking of our time together. We plan to go to a haunted pumpkin patch in the next town over if you want to join us. It’s two weeks from now, so it's the 21st.” Harry could hear the excitement in her voice and didn’t think he could say no to her.
“Everyone is going?”
“We invited everyone, but only Carmy, Estella, Maeve, Tatum, and myself are going. Carla was not for it. Dan is warming up to us but still says no. Though he did agree for trivia next week.”
Before he can stop himself, he says, “yes.”
“You will?” Y/N answers surprised. 
“Mhm…uh, it sounds like fun,” he says unconvincingly.
Y/N’s smile brightens, “I’m not hung on haunts, but they’ve got amazing apple cider you’ve got to try with me.” 
“Happy to join,” he tells her honestly. “Let me know the ticket cost or if we need to purchase our own.”
She nods eagerly. It’s clear Harry has just made her day. 
+
The day comes faster than he’s ready, and while a part of him is excited, Harry feels his nerves will get the best of him. Y/N had told them no one was dressing up in costume and even went as far as to send him a photo of her outfit to assure him she wasn’t playing a joke with him. She was wearing bell bottoms with a Mickey Mouse in a pumpkin shirt. She told him it was his favorite to wear each year. 
Harry knew it would be cold, so he wore a simple Halloween shirt in his closet and loose-fitting jeans. His jacket in his car he knew would keep him warm throughout the night. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone (only Y/N) but also wanted to look nice outside of the office for once. When Harry parked, Y/N told him she’d wait by the entrance for him, and he couldn’t miss her as she had a cute pumpkin headband on.
It seemed Y/N spotted him, too, because she rushed towards him. “Hi, Harry,” she greeted with a cheery smile.
“Hi, you look lovely,” he offered her a small compliment that made his hands sweat.
“You’re too sweet. Come on, we were waiting on you.” She grabs his hand and pulls him along to where everyone else is. 
Everyone offers their greeting, and he receives a few compliments on his tame outfit. It’s an old Halloween shirt he got at a vintage shop in New Orleans five years ago. His sister went on a trip and asked him to join. Harry could never say no to her. 
Harry notices everyone begins to drift off into conversations, but Y/N stays by his side. He takes the time to admire her as she looks around at all the decorations. There are a lot of people, but it seems they are heading to the pumpkin patch. There are stalls selling sweet treats, and he keeps in mind to buy Y/N a cider, remembering she mentioned loving it. Harry has always thought being in a relationship to be intimidating. He loves love but struggles to put himself out there, to allow someone else to get to know him, but here is Y/N, who managed to worm her way into his life, knocking down all of his walls. 
Harry likes Y/N.
It’s something he took a long time to figure out, but when he realized the excitement of seeing her each morning, he looked forward to it. He let it consume him, but he had no idea if she could feel the same way. 
“Did you drive here, Harry?” Y/N asks, breaking their silence. 
“I did,” he answers. 
“Do you think you could maybe take me home?” She brushes her hair out of her face. “I came with Tatum, but she’s been wanting to take the time to connect with Estella, if you know what I mean,” Y/N gestures to them kissing on hay bales. 
Harry had no idea that there were feelings between them. “I can do that, Y/N.” 
“Great!” She cheers gratefully. “I owe you an apple cider, then.” 
Y/N eagerly walks them to the stand, and before she can pay for both, Harry slips the kind older lady a twenty walking away with their drinks. Y/N stays behind, shocked, but quickly catches up, pouting at Harry. “Harry, I was going to pay.”
He shook his head, “my mum would have my head if I let you pay.”
Y/N bends her head, careful to take a sip of the warm drink. “Well, thank you.”
Maeve bounces over to them. “Hi beauties, we’re ready to start if you all are.” 
Harry eyes Y/N, waiting to see her response. Y/N offers her friend a large grin, and Harry agrees he’s ready. He throws away their ups, and once he finds Y/N with the group, he slithers to stand behind her. Y/N offers him a tense smile as the group tries to decide who will lead. 
“I can go in front,” Harry offers, sensing no one wanting to make the first move. Everyone thanks him and heads to the first maze. Y/N informs him it’s once based on the catacombs in France. 
“There’s a movie based on the catacombs,” Y/N shares as they walk together.
“As Above So Below,” Harry says. “It spooked me.” 
“You’ve seen it,” she laughs, holding onto his arm for a second, unable to contain her excitement. “It’s one of my favorites.”
“It’s a good one,” he agrees. 
They fall into silence as the chatter of their coworker fills the air. Harry sees Y/N get fidgety, but she’s smiling as she leads the way to the short line. “I’m actually really nervous,” she tells Harry. 
“We’ll be fine. I got you,” he assures Y/N.
Harry extends his hand, and she accepts it. He intertwines their fingers and pulls her along as the line moves slowly. Y/N does her best not to think about the feeling of his hand, but it fits perfectly between hers. She feels her hand begin to sweat and wants to pull it away, but Harry has a firm grip on her. 
“Is it okay?” Harry nods, gesturing to their hands. 
“Safe, uh, I feel safe.”
The worker asks how many, and Y/N peeks behind Harry to tell her six. Harry is grateful Y/N knows when to take charge because while he can lead a scary maze and knows everyone is dressed in costumes, he still feels nervous speaking to strangers. Harry squeezes her hand once in thanks. She gives him two quick squeezes in return.
Harry guides them in. Y/N lets go of his hand to hide behind Harry, her hands on his shoulder as she peeks behind him. There is a group ahead where she can hear the people in front screaming, which allows her to prepare for the scare, if that is even possible. 
Her eyes widen in amazement as she takes in the darkness of the building. Everything is covered in black cloth. She can see the spots where actors will jump out. Y/N mumbles an apology to Harry for holding on to him tight. Estella is behind her, screaming at everything that moves. Harry steps through the curtain, and she feels her hold on him loosen. As she is stepping closer to reach him, a man screams in her face, making her rush forward and propel Harry into a wall. 
“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” Y/N apologized repeatedly as Harry rushed them to finish the maze. She felt her heartbeat in her throat and knew she needed to calm down. One look at Harry, and he rushed her to a dark corner, not concerned about their friends. 
“Y/N? I’m okay. You’re okay.” Harry tried assuring her.
She repeated it in her head. They were okay. They got out of the dumb maze, and Harry wasn’t hurt. It took her a few minutes to realize she had a panic attack. Y/N had not even felt it coming and didn’t think a haunted house would trip her into one, but with all the overthinking she had been doing, it made sense it led to this.
“I’m sorry, Harry.” Y/N bashfully looks away from him. She can’t believe she embarrassed herself in front of him like this. 
“No apologies,” he brushes her off and doesn’t ask her any questions, only to ensure she is okay. 
They rejoin the group after ten minutes by the looks of everyone's sympathetic smiles. She knows they saw her freak out, but they’re her friends. She knows she’s in safe hands with everyone, especially Harry.
“What’s the next maze?” Y/N asks cheerfully. 
And so they continue on. 
The next maze is much smoother than the first. Carmy leads, tucking Harry and Y/N in the middle with Tatum and Estella in the back. That order seems to comfort Y/N for the next few mazes. Each worker makes her scream but then falls into giggles when Harry traces comforting shapes on her hand. It takes her mind off these scarers trying to get her to scream and instead focus on the gentle touches of her crush. 
While doing the mazes is fun, Y/N is soaking up talking to Harry in line. They’re in a new environment where they do not need to discuss work. She feels free to ask him anything, but sometimes she is unsure where to start. Y/N doesn’t know if she wants to hear about his weekend plans or ask him about his favorite movie or who his favorite Muppet character is? 
Talking to Maeve and everyone else is easy because she’s gone out with them. She knows them personally, but with Harry, he always kept that guard up, and now she’s unsure what to do if he decides to keep it up. 
To her surprise, Harry always starts the conversation with her. Harry shares about a new show he started watching and how it makes him anxious for the main character when they do something out of character. When he asks Y/N if there is a show she recommends, her mind goes blank, and the first thing that comes to mind is “Fleabag.” 
“It’s the saddest but most comforting show I have ever seen,” Y/N gushes. 
“With Phoebe Waller-Bridge?” 
“Mhmm…the second season has Andrew Scott. Irish treasure.” 
“Paul Mescal,” he adds. 
“Hozier.” 
“Saoirse Ronan,” they say in unison before falling into fits of giggles. 
“You’ve got taste, Styles.” 
“As do you.” 
The line moves, and they change conversations to talk about the best musicals they’ve seen. Y/N swears “Waitress” is the best thing created, but Harry tells her “Moulin Rouge” is his favorite. Y/N loves how easily the conversation with Harry seems to flow. He feels like a long-lost friend. Someone who once was in her life has now found his way back to her. 
Not only is he getting along with her, but everyone is getting to see the Harry she had come to know. The one who makes cheesy jokes and loves to hear every detail of the story being told. It turns out he and Maeve frequent the same record store. There’s a Stevie Nicks vinyl Harry is on the hunt for, and Maeve promised to keep an eye out for him. Tatum learns Harry can play guitar and asks him to show them sometime. Something he agreed to with pink cheeks. Y/N knew tonight was a big step for Harry, and she was glad everyone made him feel comfortable.
As the night was coming to an end, the maze lines got shorter, and the more Y/N screamed. It made her laugh right after, but still not her favorite part of the night. Before the cold can settle in, they all call it a midnight night. Tatum and Estella head out hand in hand. Y/N can’t wait for the details of that on Monday. Carmy is telling Harry a story, so Maeve uses the opportunity to remind Y/N to make a move.
“It’s now or never, girlfriend.” 
Y/N rolls her eyes, “please don’t pressure me on this.” 
“Y/N that man is, head over heels for you. If I was antisocial this is not an event I would ever do. Unless someone I fancied asked.” 
Y/N toes her food in the sand and, in a low voice, asks, “do you really think he likes me?” 
Maeve smiles, brushing Y/N’s hair out of her eyes. “That man lit up every time your eyes were on him. I don’t know Harry as well as you do, but I can notice a guy with a crush from miles away. Trust me on this.” 
Y/N backs down, relaxing, “okay.” 
“Good. Now text me when you get home. Carmy’s got me.” Maeve gives her a tight hug and then pulls Carmy away from Harry. 
He walks over to her with a shy smile on his face. “Have a good time?” 
“The best,” she tells him. “Though I might need another apple cider. Think my heart needs it.”
“By all means, lead the way.” 
After getting one last warm apple cider, they reach Harry’s car. It’s an electric car because he’s conscious of his environmental impact and knows one person can go a long way into the future. Harry opens Y/N’s car door and waits until he sees her seated and buckled to close her door. As he gets ready to drive off, he turns on the heater, knowing if he’s cold, Y/N must be too. 
The car ride starts off quietly, Y/N guiding him every so often when to make a turn. Y/N sees her favorite coffee shop and knows she is almost home. “That was fun,” Harry starts. “I’m happy I went.” 
“Mhmm…it was a good time. Glad you joined us,” she tells him honestly. 
Harry notices at a red light that she’s fidgeting with her hands and thinks he might still be cold. “Do you need me to turn up the heater?” 
Y/N shakes her head, “no, sorry, I’m fine.” 
Harry drives down a few more streets when Y/N tells him to turn left. “It’s the third one on the right.” 
He parks right outside her driveway. From here, he can see her decorations hung up. It’s decorated charmingly. It’s clear no scaring would happen here. She’s got two pumpkins outside her door. One has stars carved all around; the other is a cat on a witch’s broom. Bat lights are hanging up the railing of the steps. She even has a few inflatables. His favorite has to be the one of Mickey Mouse as a vampire.
“Thank you for driving me home. I appreciated it.” She smiles at him, and he returns it. Harry gets out of the car and opens her door. 
“Let me walk you up.” 
Y/N feels her cheeks burn and leads the way. 
“We’re planning trivia soon,” Y/N says, testing the waters. 
“Hmm…only if you’re on my team.” 
“We would all be on the same team,” his flirting going over her head.
Harry’s face turns pink, “uh, right.” 
She laughs, placing her hand on his bicep. “Only joking.”
Y/N pulls him in, whispering good night, except when she pulls away, she locks eyes with his emerald eyes, and it’s like she’s in a trance. She feels herself leaning in closer, and before she knows it, Y/N presses her lips to Harry in an airy kiss.
She pulls back, shocked. “Sorry,” she breathed out. “I-I should have asked.” 
“Ask me,” he pleads. 
“What?” Y/N isn’t sure if she heard him correctly. 
Harry doesn’t care anymore. He raises his hand to rest on her cheeks. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?” 
She feels how close he is. She can feel his breath mixing with hers. “Yes.” 
When their lips meet, Y/N swears she feels time stop. Harry is starting slow as he begins to learn what she likes.  Y/N places a hand on his chest, needing to have a secure hold as she feels him take her breath away. Her emotions are all over the place. His lips are smooth as they move against hers in a dance that feels like they’ve done a hundred times before. Harry deepens the kiss, pushing her up against the door, making Y/N grab a fistful of his shirt, not wanting him to pull away. Y/N lets herself get wrapped up in all her feelings because she knows that a kiss this special means it won’t be her only one, and she finally allows all her feelings to pour into the kiss. 
Y/N isn’t sure how long they spent kissing outside her door. It seems she’s lost track of time since she got a taste of Harry. “I don’t want you to go,” she mutters against his lips when she feels him begin to pull away.
“I’ll see you Monday,” he promises. 
“Too far.
Harry laughs, “you can call me tomorrow when you wake up.” Knowing she likes to sleep in, he would rather not wake her up. 
“Okay,” she whispers in defeat. 
“Good night,” Harry takes a step back. 
Y/N bites her lip and gives him a wave. “Do you want a kiss goodbye?” 
Harry can’t say no.
+
Monday morning, Y/N walks in with a large smile. It makes everyone stop and stare. She makes her rounds, wishing everyone a good morning, and saves Harry for last. 
“Hi, Harry.” She chirps. 
“Morning,” he answers timidly. 
Y/N pouts because he didn’t even look at her. She wanted to see his beautiful eyes. “So I was thinking…” she trails off. 
Harry turns, giving her his undivided attention, and Y/N’s smile widens. “How does a date sound to you?”
“A date?” He echoes. 
“With me,” she giggles.
“Best thing I've heard all day.”
Y/N claps her hands together, “wonderful.” 
“How does this weekend sound?” 
“Too far,” she teases. “Saturday?” 
“I’ll pick you up,” he promises. 
“Good. Good.” Y/N lingers by his door. 
“Yes, love?” 
Y/N feels her cheeks heat up but doesn’t look away from him. “Are we still on for lunch?” 
Harry gives her a dimpled grin, “I’ve got a new book for us to discuss.” 
Y/N tells him she can’t wait and walks away. Harry watches her go, and as if she can feel his stare on her, she turns around and gives him a wink. Harry knows he’s way in over his head with someone as amazing as Y/N, but he can’t wait to prove each day to her how much he deserves to be with her.
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fashion-runways · 6 months
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okay it's been over a year and i keep saying i'm going to make a new post and it's too exhausting to even think about the whole thing so i keep pushing it-- here's the link to the old post if you want a more detailed thing i wrote back then.
anyway, a year ago, out of the blue, our apartment got raided by the police, they broke our front door, they broke a bunch of shit inside, they took a bunch of our stuff, they barely gave us answers or an explanation, they took my dad and made it seem like he would have to sign some stuff and answer some questions and come back, but it's been over a year (since june 2022) and he hasn't come back, and his case is still up in the air. they're barely working on it. they didn't pay for all the shit they broke, they haven't returned all the shit they took, we had to spend a lot of money on that, i had to take a loan to buy a new computer so i could keep working and studying, on top of spending even more money on basic needs for my dad in jail and lawyers, plus blood pressure and anxiety medications, plus he's old and he was scheduled an eye surgery that he obviously couldn't go to so he's like, practically blind in one eye now, also new clothes for him to wear there (there's a bunch of rules for that), honestly i already lost track of how many things we had to pay for. it's been incredibly stressful and it still is even now that we've gotten used to it. he's been detained for a year for something that they still don't even know if he did and the case is barely moving, i don't know if they're like... i don't know, waiting for the man to die in there since he's already old so they don't have to admit they don't have enough proof for all the mess they made? i don't know. like i said back then, please don't ask me for details on the case or show up in my inbox trying to play tiktok true crime and guess what he did/didn't do. it happened a few times and it's extremely triggering, please don't. please.
this blog is basically my job. it's my primary source of income, i don't have anything else, no matter how many interviews i go to, in the country/city i live and in the state our economy is, if you don't have contacts it's impossible to get a job. i'm always signing up to free programs to learn new things while i don't have a job, try to make my cv bigger, but it doesn't matter. if you don't have someone saying “please hire my friend/family member” or you don't have 500 years of experience, they won't. so like i said, donations people make to this blog are how me and my mom (and my pets) stay afloat. it's what we use to pay for food, general groceries, transportation, electricity, wifi, water, gas, health insurance, stuff for my dad in jail, meds for my mom who has diabetes, food and meds for my pets. i don't go out much, i haven't gotten a haircut in a year, i barely spend money in anything that makes me happy except once in a blue moon when i stop feeling guilty lmao i had a redbubble account also that helped a little too, but last week it got suspended without an explanation as i was uploading new designs, so i don't even have that now. i made a new account on teepublic, but all my designs in high quality are locked behind redbubble and i can't even log into because of the suspension. it's... complicated, and it's a lot, but it is what it is.
i'm always keeping an eye out on new collections, new designers, new cool things. like i said, i love fashion, i studied fashion, and i know a lot of you use this blog as inspiration whether it's for yourselves or for your art, so i don't want to post all similar stuff all the time, i want to post all kinds of styles and brands as much as i can. which is why when i say if you like this blog, if you want to support me, sending even the smallest amount of money helps me keep going. living in latin america, the exchange rate is kind of insane, so truly any amount of money donated helps. unfortunately, i never stop needing money to survive and help keep my family afloat, but in the past year more than ever.
as usual, my kofi link is this one: https://ko-fi.com/fashionrunways and my (new) teepublic link is this one: https://www.teepublic.com/user/dinah-lance. if my redbubble account gets reinstated, i'll add that link eventually too. and as always, thanks for loving this blog and for loving fashion like i love fashion, even when i post crazy looking stuff, and thanks for helping. you have no idea how much your support helps, but it really does, i don't even know if i'd be alive right now if it wasn't for this blog.
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pers1st · 2 months
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let down - leah williamson x reader
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pairing: barca!reader x leah williamson
warnings: barça being broke
In truth, you shouldn't be nervous.
This conversation had been going on for months - it was no secret that Barça had many financial problems, and paying you, Alexia and Aitana as their midfield would always have been difficult. You had had countless conversations like these before - negotiating your new contract, negotiating your new wage, which you knew would be significantly lower. It didn't bother you, though. You would've picked up a second job if it meant playing for your childhood club, even if they refused to pay you.
This setting, however, seemed a lot more official than it should've, in your opinion.
You were still dressed in your clothes from training, and so was Jona, but the rest of Barça's management was dressed properly - in suits and leather shoes. They shouldn't have even been there yet. This conversation was meant to simply verbalize your new contract, not to sign it yet. You were in no conditions to take the usual photos and sit in front of the camera for an interview after the contract extension. It confused you.
"Y/N, we are so sorry."
That was how Jona started, and in that particular moment, your heart stopped. No, this couldn't- they wouldn't dare-
"We can't renew your contract."
Silence followed. Then, your shaky voice. Barely above a whisper.
"What?"
This whole situation seemed too surreal to be true. Maybe in a few seconds, your eyes would open and you would find out that this was just a horrible dream. If it hadn't been for your manager's piercing gaze on you, you might've pinched yourself under the table.
"We don't have the financial means to pay you enough to stay. I know it's not what you want to hear, but-"
"No, Jona, we talked about this. You can cut my wage, I don't mind. I'll stay here, whatever it takes. Alexia said she would-"
But the man in front of you didn't let you finish.
"You are right, we talked about this. And I told you that you deserve more than what we can give you, and that you cannot let us undermine you. It's not fair to you, it's not fair to all the women who are-"
This time, you were the one to interrupt him.
"But this? This isn't fair to me!"
That was how the argument unfolded, and only after your voice was hoarse from crying and pleading, your cheeks stained with tears and your manager stained with guilt, did you leave the office to fall into Alexia's arms, who had been listening in from the other side of the door for God knew how long.
It was January currently, which meant that as soon as you silently agreed with them to sign you to whatever club payed the most, you were out.
Just like that, the chance to play in front of the Culers for one last time was ripped away from you. They received a half-hearted announcement via Instagram, you received twenty women in your apartment, ready to pack your things. In all honesty, you had wished for no one to see as you organized your life into moving boxes and shipped them over the sea for whoever from Arsenal to receive, mostly because it would've felt even less real. Mostly because then, the goodbye wouldn't have hit you as hard. Ona tried to offer you advice on how to get by in England, telling you all about her experience abroad. Mapi tried to lift the spirits by joking around. Ingrid held you as you allowed tears to fall, and Alexia made sure you didn't forget anything, offering to take care of the things you would leave behind in Barcelona.
It was only you and Alexia at the airport. Your best friend, since the day you had been selected to play for the senior team of Barcelona, had shared many angry words with the management, and at one point even threatened to leave if you really had to. But the papers were signed, and the boxes were packed, and there was nothing left to do for Alexia besides holding your shaky frame as tears clouded your vision for what felt like the millionth time.
"You'll be okay, bebita. You'll enjoy London, and then you'll come back. I promise, you'll come back."
The both of you knew that there was no way she could ever promise that - Barça's financial difficulties were far too severe to sign you back soon - the most expensive player in the world, currently. When, or if the smoke would clear up, neither of you could know. Still, her words soothed you the tiniest as you held onto the glimpse of hope your best friend gave you as if it was a lifeline.
"Enjoy London, okay?"
You nodded, although you knew that you wouldn't. What good was London compared to Barcelona? What good was the capital of England compared to your lifelong home?
"Vamos, carino", Alexia huffed as she let go of you, gently pushing you towards your gate.
"Call me, okay? ¡Te amo!", she yelled after you as you turned away from her, and the hurt in her voice made a new layer of tears stream down on your cheeks, but you knew that if you looked back at her now, you would never board that plane. If leaving to England was what it took for your club to keep functioning, you would. If playing for Arsenal meant that you would be back in blaugrana one day, you would wear that ugly red shirt and call yourself a Gunner. You wouldn't do it happily, though.
London looked ugly when you flew over it, and London looked ugly when you landed in Heathrow Airport. You had expected people from the club to be there to pick you up, wearing Arsenal clothes and a sign with your name on it. It was apparently standard procedure, as Alexia had told you, though neither of you could really know because neither of you had never left the country to play football if it wasn't with the Spanish national team. What you hadn't expected, however, was Laia waving at you excitedly from across the hall, with two women dressed in the same hoodie as her, one significantly smaller (you guessed she was Kim) and one Leah Williamson.
You had never followed English football much, likely why you hadn't recognized Kim when you'd first searched up your new team on the internet, but Leah was the kind of footballer everyone was just.. aware of.
Admittedly, she was even prettier in real life.
"¡Hola, guapa!", Laia shrieked as you strolled over to your new teammates (the word 'teammate' along with 'new' still left a bitter taste in your mouth), dragging your suitcase behind you tiredly. The plain ride had worn you out - in all honesty, the entire past week had worn you out. Ever since you'd been told that you would leave the club that you had bled for, you hadn't been able to close half an eye.
Still, Laia's excitement was unmatched as she pulled you into a tight hug, allowing your face to sag against her shoulder. You didn't allow yourself to cry anymore, and so you could see Leah and Kim smile at you softly from a few steps behind the other Spanish woman without tears clouding your vision.
Laia continued to speak in Spanish, asking you about the flight, about how the Barça girls were, about how excited she was that you were finally here and she wasn't the only Spaniard at the Arsenal.
If Kim and Leah thought it was rude that they were left out of the conversation entirely, they didn't say so. Still, you pushed Laia off gently, mustering the smallest of smiles you could.
"Hello."
Your English wasn't very good, but even you winced ever so slightly at the realization of how truly cold you sounded. You didn't want to be here, didn't want any of them to show you your new apartment, didn't want them to show you the club, to bring you to training, to give you a red jersey and call you a Gunner.
But you needed to suck it up. Life wasn't fair. And if Alexia's words held any truth, this would merely be a temporal situation.
"Hey", Kim smiled at you. Her English sounded funny, but her smile was more genuine than yours as she introduced herself and Leah. You hadn't needed her to, but it was a nice gesture anyways.
"It's good to have you here", Leah smiled as she gently lay her arm across your shoulder.
"Wanna see your new flat?", you nodded as Leah guided you out of the hall, your luggage left with Laia who strolled behind you alongside Kim.
Leah's confidence and her proximity to you, your side pressed against hers, was making your head spin ever so slightly. You had, admittedly, hoped that Leah, as co-captain and being about to return to the pitch, would understand how badly you didn't want to be at Arsenal, seeing as she bled for the club the way you did for Barcelona. Maybe she could grasp the idea of being forced out of her home, and sympathize with you in the slightest. And it seemed she did, as she pointed towards what you guessed was Kim's car, leaving you and Laia in the backseats as you drove through the city. London was different from Barcelona.
It was slightly less ugly now, with impressive buildings and a few bits of nature sprawled around as Kim maneuvered the car through the streets. It was cold, though, and as you were shivering slightly, Kim put the heat just a bit higher. It was grey, as well. Not a single ray of sunshine was able to break through the barrier of clouds in the sky, and it reminded you a lot of your current mood, though you were hesitant to show it.
Leah and Kim seemed genuine in their efforts to make this transition as easy for you as possible, given the fact that your apprehension to leave Barcelona was a very well known fact. You had dedicated an Instagram post with a very heartfelt caption to your departure, which made it very clear that you did not leave on your own accord.
Their dedication to welcome you, though, made you feel the tiniest bit of unfair. The women were genuinely trying, and they promised you during the car ride, when asking whether or not you were nervous, that the whole team was excited to meet you. Maybe you could try a little bit. Maybe you could enjoy this for the time being.
"Here we are."
You could see Kim's smile through the rearview mirror as she parked her car in front of an old building which you guessed was your new apartment complex. The car had left the central of London around twenty minutes ago, and at your confused expression, Laia had huffed that the club was in North London, not Central London.
"¿Es un poco feo, no?", (It's a bit ugly) you asked Laia as you stared at the shabby building. The walls were grey, and the parking lot was grey, and it seemed like everything in London was just.. grey. Plain.
"¡No, Y/N! Leah vida aquí también", (Leah lives here too) Laia huffed at your comment, shaking her head while chuckling at your statement. You shrugged, ignoring the way Leah and Kim furrowed their brows at your Spanish conversation while climbing out of your seat to retrieve your luggage.
You insisted on carrying your suitcase up the small flight of stairs as well, though Laia offered to do it for you. The two of you hadn't been super close when she'd still played at Barcelona, but you had been quite good friends, and having at least one familiar face soothed you.
"This is it", Leah smiled softly as the four of you stepped into the hallway, following your curious steps into the flat. It was plain as well, of course it was. For the first time since calming down on the plane, you had to fight tears again. The flat was nice, sure. The club had organized a quite spacious place, with lots of room and comfortable-looking furniture. But it was bare. You knew that shopping for furniture would be a hassle in the middle of the season, so you had rented it furnitured.
You missed your green couch, the thrifted, quite antique sideboard, the golden-framed mirror. You missed the framed shirts on your wall, the clothing rack with all of the shirts you had swapped with other players. All of those things were now packed away in a storage room somewhere in Barcelona. You missed Barcelona.
"Es pretty", you mumbled, dropping your keys on the white coffee table and turning around to look at Leah, who was still holding on to your large bag, the Barcelona badge imprinted on it. The look she gave you, eyebrows slightly raised, eyes looking somewhat defeated, told you that you hadn't been able to fool her.
Laia and Kim left quickly, with the excuse of having early training tomorrow and needing to run whatever errands, but Leah stayed.
"I live in the same building, so I could help you unpack if you want?"
In truth, you didn't want her to help. You didn't want her to swoop through your things, eyeing all of your personal belongings, all of the tokens of your previous home that you had left so promptly, but you didn't have the heart to tell her no. So, the two of you got to work, after a small tour through the whole unit, finding the bedroom, the bathroom and another room that you guessed you would use for storage. Your kitchen was small, after all, and it was filled with things you didn't know how to use.
"What's this?", you asked as you held up a scoop of some sort, that you had found while rummaging through your cupboards.
"It's a tea scoop, for making loose tea", Leah explained with a chuckle, taking the utensil from your hand to showcase how one scoops.
"I don't drink tea", you huffed, taking the scoop back and shoving it into the back of the cupboard before closing it a little harsher than you would have expected.
"You're in England now, you're gonna drink tea."
You decided to ignore her comment, instead opening the next drawer.
"I have a microwave", you pointed out, moving slightly to the side so that Leah could look. She was awfully close to you again, and it made you nervous.
"So you can make paellas", Leah snickered, nudging her hips against yours playfully. At that, you turned towards her, taking a shocked step back.
"Joder, you don't microwave paellas! What is wrong with you? Mujer loca", (crazy woman) you exclaimed, nudging her back playfully before diving into the next cupboard. Maybe London wouldn't be as horrible as you thought.
notes: this is baaaaad honestly but we move
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mokulule · 7 months
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Take Out for Dummies - part 1
Ship: Dead on Main
“Excuse me?” Jason asked in disbelief.
“How would you describe your ideal date?” the man repeated the question calmly as if he hadn’t snuck up on Red Hood on a rooftop in the middle of the night and didn’t have two guns pointed at him by said surprised vigilante.
Jason had no idea what to think, it was absurd. Only one thing made the smallest bit of sense. After all some reporters would do anything for a story.
“Is this an interview for a gossip magazine?”
The man blinked. “No, this is for personal use only.”
Okay. That was even weirder. With that thought he holstered his guns, grabbed his grapple instead and jumped off the building. He could move his patrol elsewhere for tonight.
Oo o oO
It had been a few days, the strange encounter forgotten about as he’d quickly come across a shipment of unsanctioned drugs entering his territory; Black Mask was making moves towards Crime Alley again. Red Hood had to nip that bullshit in the bud. Just because he was more vigilante than crime lord these days didn’t mean he’d gone soft.
So, Jason had forgotten about the strange man on the rooftop and was wholly unprepared when once again he was standing on a rooftop taking a small break in his patrol and someone spoke:
“So I assume dinner is out what with the whole helmet deal, but what about chocolate?”Jason spun around heart in this throat, guns pointing towards the direction of the voice. It took a moment for him to even find him. This time he was sitting on top on the slanted roof of the stairwell.
“What the-“
“A box of chocolate could be enjoyed later, would that be a suitable gift?”
“What is wrong with you?”
“Too many things to remember off the top of my head.” The man jumped down and walked towards Jason, once more showing his absolute disregard for the guns pointing at him.
“Do you have a death wish?”
That for some reason brought a smile to his face.
Somehow, Jason was the one taking a step back despite being the one holding the guns. That at least stopped the man’s advance and he raised his hands in surrender.
“Sorry man, I guess this whole showing up on a rooftop in the dark is kinda creepy.” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “It’s just with you being you, I don’t know where else to catch you.”
Jason felt an incoming headache, and he was feeling increasingly silly pointing his guns at the man when he didn’t react to them at all.
“How about you explain who you are and what you want?”
“Oh!” He slapped his forehead as if he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten. “I’m Danny, and I’ve been hired to take you out.” He smiled brightly.
Jason stared in disbelief. Who in their right mind just announced they’d been hired to kill someone, to the person they intended to-
No…
It couldn’t be…
He’d been asking about dates and chocolate. He couldn’t possibly have misunderstood take out Red Hood as take out Red Hood on a date. Nobody would be that stupid…
“Why would someone hire you to take me out on a date?”
Danny, if that was his real name, shrugged. “Maybe they thought you were stressed and needed a nice evening? I don’t know. I don’t ask questions. I just do odd jobs for money, keeps the lights on, you know?”
Jason didn’t respond. He couldn’t believe this.
“And like this job pays extremely well for some reason, so like I’d like to do a good job of it hence the questions?”
Of course it payed extremely well, it was meant to be a freaking hit! Still could be of course, but then it was the oddest way to go about it that Jason had ever experienced and he’d taken out quite a few would-be assassins in his time.
Danny’s face fell at Jason’s continued non-responsiveness. He sighed. Then brought out a notepad and scribbled something down, before ripping off the paper and holding it out to Jason.
“Look,” he said, when Jason made no move to take the paper and still just kept his guns trained on him, “here’s my number if you change your mind. If you haven’t called back in three days, I’ll return my advance and tell them I can’t do it - no matter how sad I’ll be to see that money go.” He looked pained at the admission, but then looked back up at Red Hood with determination.
“Still please reconsider, Mr Hood, I promise I’ll show you a good time if you agree to a date.”He looked expectantly from his hand with the paper to Jason’s helmet. Jason sighed. Holstering his right hand gun he took the paper. It was indeed a phone number, above the number it said Danny with a little smiley face drawn after the name.
Danny’s face brightened into a smile.
“Have a good night then Mr. Hood, I hope to hear from you.” Danny walked backwards with a wave and promptly tripped on an empty bottle someone had left.
“Woah!” His arms windmilled and he only just saved himself from falling back and hitting his head by sheer luck as he caught himself in the sort of gravity defying pose that would win him most limbo games. He laughed sheepishly as he put a hand down and turned around to push himself back up.
“So that was embarrassing. Should look where I go, huh? Never know when you’ll be assaulted by littering…” his voice trailed off as he walked away. He threw a last wave over his shoulder before jumping onto the fire escape and beginning his climb down.
Jason was left standing on the rooftop, paper clutched in one hand, trying to comprehend the whole baffling conversation. Also there was a distinct curl of embarrassment that he’d actually felt threatened by the guy at one point.
Yeah, he wasn’t gonna unpack that. He put the paper in a pocket of his utility belt and took a running leap to the next rooftop.
Oo o oO
Jason could not believe he was actually doing this.
It was three days later. In the mean time he’d asked around his old enforcers if they heard about a guy named Danny who did “odd jobs” as he’d called it.
As it turned out, there was indeed an odd-job-Danny, sometimes just called odd-Danny, with an increasing reputation on the streets of Gotham for doing all sorts of jobs - everything from helping old ladies carry groceries home for pennies and a pat on the cheek to heavier lifting by the docks. When he asked one of the street kids about him, he was told he also helped look for lost pets for pretty rocks or whatever the kids had in their pockets at the time, and he could fix just about anything - which had to be an exaggeration, but then again the street kids weren’t prone to overly positive opinions about adults, so he’d certainly made quite an impression on them.
Yet despite a lot of people knowing about him, apparently nobody knew a last name or where he lived. It was a mystery.
All that to say that Jason was curious… and apparently doing this.
He looked down at his phone, where he’d already put in the number. His thumb hovered over the call button. He still could not believe he was doing this. If this was a trap he was apparently walking in.
With a sigh he pushed the button.
It rang three times before it connected.
“Hello?” A hesitant voice asked.
“Is this Danny?” “Who’s asking?”
“You ask me on a date and you already forgot, I’m hurt,” Jason deadpanned hoping he would catch on to it not being wise to mention Red Hood’s name on an unencrypted line.
“Oh! So is that a yes?” He piped up excitedly.
Urgh, why was it charming that that he sounded so genuinely excited?
“Yes.”
“Sweet. Did you consider my questions?”
“Nope,” Jason popped the p and found himself smirking, “gonna have to impress me all on your own.”
Danny huffed. “Have it your way. I’ll show you a good time, you’ll see. How does… Sunday afternoon work for you?”
“’s fine.”
“Meet you in front of the building we last met, at 2 pm? Also unless you wanna take the bus, maybe bring your bike? I don’t drive.”
Jason scoffed. Letting some stranger hired to kill him close to him on his bike was a recipe for disaster. Still he found himself answering:
“Sure.”
“Great! I’ll see you Sunday then.”
With those words the call ended.
Jason looked down at his phone. He couldn’t believe it. Jason, no, Red Hood had a date for this Sunday. A giddy feeling bubbled up in his chest and he couldn’t help laughing. Red Hood going on a date. It was fucking ridiculous.
Yet, he was kinda looking forward to it. -
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